Banshee Squadron Book I
by Laetras
Summary: The main story I\'m working on now. Don\'t expect any more of any of the other stories I have until this is finished. *Update* The beginning of chapter 2 is here, look for more soon.
1. Chapter I

  


Banshee Squadron

Dramatis Personae

  


Banshee Squadron:

Commander Tharen Vorix (Lead, One) (Human male from Contruum)

Captain Avri Ninmb (Five) (Sullustan female from Sullust)

Lieutenant Fynn Scortha (Eleven) (Human female from Thyferra)

Lieutenant Cristyle Vnoth (Two) (Human female from Contruum)

Lieutenant R'krey "Destructo" Ther'gan (Three) (Bothan male from Bothawui)

Flight Officer Den Contrin (Seven) (Human male from Coruscant)

Flight Officer Leanna Hyne (Eight) (Human female from Kessel)

Flight Officer Jonathan Grey (Four) (Human male from Coruscant)

Flight Officer Derri Laetras (Six) (Human female from Corellia)

Flight Officer Vic Sileus (Nine) (Human male from Alderaan)

Flight Officer Dev Serens (Ten) (Human male from Tatooine)

Flight Officer Nakk Venn (Twelve) (Twi'lek male from Ryloth)

Banshee Support Staff

Chief Mechanic Vinse DeLorean

Crash (Vorix's R5 unit)

Bomb (Ther'gan's R2 unit)

Avian (Vnoth's R2 unit)

  


New Republic Military Personnel

Admiral Delindo (Mon Calamari male from Mon Calamari)

General Wedge Antilles (human male from Corellia)

Colonel Tycho Celchu (human male from Alderaan)

Captain Corran Horn (human male from Corellia)

Captain Gavin Darklighter (human male from Tatooine)

Lieutenant Rysati Ynr (human female from Bespin)

Captain Aril Numb (Sullustan female from Sullust)

  


Imperial Navy Personnel

Commodore Neva (human male)

Lieutenant Waroen (human female)

Warlord's Personnel

Warlord Vaughn (human male from Denab)

Lieutenant Grenn (human male)

Chief Gunner Dirok (human male)

  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


**Prologue**

The X-Wing twisted and tumbled through a complex series of maneuvers, throwing the TIE Defender, or trip, off its tail. The X-Wing chopped throttle back, feinted left, and pulled around in a tight loop onto the trip's aft. The trip tried to throw the X-Wing off, but it couldn't. The X-Wing opened up with lasers and chewed through the trip's aft. The X-Wing cockpit dimmed. Commander Tharen Vorix, a man towering at about six-foot-five with a dark brown mop of hair, stepped out. Colonel Tycho Celchu climbed out of the TIE simulator across the room.

"Care to go again, Tych'?" Tharen rubbed in his victory.

"No, I've died enough for today." Tycho looked hurt. "How did I go wrong?"

"Plenty of ways." Tharen smiled. "Right, Crash?"

The red and silver R-5 unit tweeted in response. It somehow looked like it was reveling in his victory.

Tycho sighed and looked at the statistics screens. It showed seven victories for Tharen, and none for him. He left, shaking his head. Tharen looked around at the dominant features of the simulator room of the Mon Calamari Cruiser _Mon Karren_, which used to be part of General Han Solo's anti-Zsinj taskforce. The simulators, a large number of chairs, and a big display showing the cockpits of the simulators were the room's dominant features. People had crowded it minutes earlier, watching the fight between the two experienced pilots. A door just behind the chairs led out to a main corridor. Tharen's personal comlink beeped, startling him.

"Vorix here," he said into the mike.

"Commander, report to conference room two, please," a female voice responded. It sounded like Admiral Delindo's personal secretary.

Fifteen minutes later, Tharen stood at the door. It swooshed open for him. As he suspected, he saw the Mon Calamari Delindo sitting at one of the chairs in the modestly sized room. A platter of caf sat next to the Admiral. Tharen took a seat and helped himself to a cup. Another figure walked in, which Tharen recognized as Wedge Antilles.

"Commander, General, we have a problem," Delindo said, activating a holoprojector on the table. A picture of a Super Star Destroyer tagged _Exsanguinator_ pounding a Correllian Corvette into scrap came to life above it.

Antilles voiced what the other two were thinking. "Sithspit."

**Chapter I**

"Another new Warlord?" Tharen questioned.

"Yes." Delindo tapped a button on his datapad and an image of a gray-haired man's head appeared in place of the repeating battle image. His face appeared warm, but his eyes contradicted that. They were an icy blue, and Tharen shuddered at even the holo. Not someone he wanted to meet anytime soon. "Warlord Tsin Vaughn. No record of him in Republic, Alliance, or Imperial files. Very little known on him. He appeared two days ago and has struck at numerous civilian targets in the time since."

"So what do we do?" asked Tharen.

"We don't know yet." Delindo made the Mon Calamari approximation of a frown. "You won't be doing anything for a while."

"What?"

"Your skills are amazing. You'll be organizing a new squadron." Wedge smiled at him.

"Oh, thank you. So all I have to do is organize a new squadron from the ground up. How easy." Sarcasm dripped from Tharen's voice.

"Oh, it's not that bad. We only have 450 candidates for you to chose from." Wedge grinned evilly.

"I am going to die."

"No you won't. I'm doing half of them."

--One day later, Coruscant--

"Pilot candidate number two hundred twenty-three: Dev Serens, native of Tatooine. He has decent computer skills, should we ever need to hack anything." Tharen punched the button to open the door, waited for Crash's greeting whistle to fade, and started talking to the under-average height blonde. "Good afternoon."

"Good afternoon, Commander."

"You want to join this squad? You have some secondary skills useful to me."

"Yes sir. Permission to speak freely?"

"Go ahead."

Dev took a deep breath before continuing. "Sir, I'm a screw-up. I've washed out of more units than I can count. This unit is my very last chance. Please let me make it a good one."

Tharen looked down and reread the information on Serens to cover his surprise. "Many wouldn't have opted to tell who could be their next commanding officer that."

"I'm not most people, sir."

"If you can bring yourself to two point five points below Academy grad minimums, you've got a slot in the unit."

"Thank you, sir."

"Goodbye and good luck. Dismissed."

After Dev walked out of the room, Tharen sighed. This was going to be a long day.

--Two weeks later, Borleais--

Tharen stepped into the world's bright sunlight from the dark, T-shaped wooden building he and the squadron's executive officer would share. He got the longer horizontal top bar, while the XO would have the shorter vertical bar. Four other buildings stood close by, three like Tharen's. Two of the buildings were pilot and mechanic quarters, one, made of durasteel, was their hangar, and the last building was a combined sim/briefing/recreation/ops room. Tharen started down the wide hill on which the buildings were situated and stopped at the wide, flat beach where a few pilots romped in the unseasonably warm water.

_Ah, finally, we can get down to training_, he thought

Tharen noted that some of his pilots opted to stay dry and chat. A landspeeder from one of the other training complexes whizzed by occasionally, most parking in front of the Old Times Tavern, standing on a grassy knoll just behind the beach. Tharen headed in, hoping to meet a few of his pilots.

Tharen entered the cool and dim interior of the Old Times Tavern. He stood in the cool air for a beat, then continued on to the bar. He grabbed a stool at the bar and tapped the bar for a waiter.

"Whyren's Reserve, please. As cold as possible." Tharen paused. "And a wet napkin."

His order was filled quickly. A waitress returned two minutes later and smiled at him. Tharen started blotting at his forehead with the napkin. After he was sufficiently cooled, he took a long swig of the smoky-colored whiskey and looked around the bar. A Sullustan female, his XO, sat talking with a pilot from Thyferra. They were in a booth with a privacy field on. A male from Coruscant was sitting five stools away from Tharen. Another pilot, a stunning human female, walked in and took a seat next to him. She had golden blond hair, an angular face, and electrifying blue eyes. She was tall, almost Tharen's height.

"Hello," Tharen said, trying to keep from staring. "Who are you? I don't know all of my squadron yet."

"Cristyle Vnoth. Of Contruum, as you are also." She smiled. "Bartender, a Whyren's Reserve. Cold."

The bartender hurried off to the back of the tavern to fill the newcomer's order.

"So, Commander, when are we getting our assignments?" Vnoth asked.

"I'm working up some sim exercises now. We'll be flying A-Wings." Tharen flashed a smile. "The trash-talking is fun. Like this: 'You got some fair speed out of those outdated piles of junk.' See what I mean?"

Vnoth grinned wickedly. "Yep."

--Later, beach complex--

A game of water polo was going on in the outer half of the swimming area, with the team led by Tharen winning by a point. Half of his squadron was playing on his team, along with a squadron of B-Wing pilots on the other team, labeled jokingly by Tharen's pilots as 'Kaboom Squadron.' The B-Wing pilots got back at Tharen's group with the name 'Tinkerbell Squadron.'

Suddenly, the B-Wing pilots made a stunning offensive maneuver and managed to sneak past the A-Wing pilots defensive. Their drive ran unchecked to the goal and the shot made it in. From the shore, the brown-furred Bothan called, "Two minutes remaining!"

Tharen called a time-out and gathered his team. "OK, we're going in and we're going in hot. Ithmar Gambit. Break!"

The A-Wing pilots spread out, and one human male swam forward with the ball. Suddenly looking into a foe that outnumbered him twelve to one, he retreated. The entire B-Wing squad, excepting the goalie, charged. Two meaty pilots grabbed the A-Wing pilot and grabbed at the nothingness in his hands. The A-Wing pilot grinned. Tharen and the rest of his team were already at the opposing goal, exploiting the hologame move to its full use. The Bothan on the shore called the thirty second warning. Tharen feinted left, then right, and tossed the ball into the net, just as the Bothan blew a whistle signifying the end of the game. 

The A-Wing pilots cheered, reveling in their victory. The B-Wing pilots shook hands. Most

Tharen emerged from the water, toweled himself off and headed for the ops center. Around a large tactical display sat Wedge Antilles and Tycho Celchu.

"More attacks by our Warlord friend?" Tharen asked.

"Yes. He just crushed a colony on Cafre'Ghaan. All that remains are a few burning embers....and an asteroid field." Tycho looked sick.

"What??" Tharen said. "Don't tell me they have a superlaser fitted on that thing!"

"Actually, they don't. What they do have is a rather scaled down and bare-bones Death Star," Wedge replied

"Could it be a copy of the original from the Maw installation?" Tharen questioned.

"It might be, but we don't know." Wedge paused. "From the data we have, one shot would have enough power to pierce Coruscant's planetary shield and cause massive surface damage. If they could fire it again within 25 minutes, the shields wouldn't be able to keep the beam out."

"So you're saying that this thing could charge Coruscant now and blow it away?" Tharen grimaced. "If he can do that, or at least threaten to, we could lose Coruscant, and all the legitimacy that gains us."

"Right." Tycho frowned. "But, this Death Star has the same weakness as the first. And this time, they aren't likely to overlook that critical weakness. All the fighter squadrons we have in reserve are being called to action, getting brush-up training, and the like. The squads in training are being commanded to reach operational status in one month or less. The New Republic is stretched after Adumar, engaging the Empire on all fronts. Unfortunately, that leaves us with an inadequate defense."

Vinse DeLorean, Tharen's Chief Mechanic burst in. "Sir, we've got ships. A-Wing Mark IIIs, the newest model. And unlike most fighters straight from the factory, they look great."

"Get them ready for training. Mark IIIs are the 9-meter version, right? With astromech recesses?" Tharen questioned.

"Right." Vinse paused and thought for a second. "I'll assign the pilots astromechs."

"Good." Tharen waited until Vinse left the room. "So what happens after the Republic is ready to bring guns to bear on this guy?"

"Well, that's classified for now. You'll have information on your assignments once you make it to operational status." Wedge smiled grimly. "The only thing I can say is that it won't be pretty."

"I figured that out. Goodbye, General, Colonel. I have a squadron to train."


	2. Chapter II

**Chapter II**

--Five hours later, main Borleias base hangar--

Tharen approached the hangar. The large durasteel building was the center of activity now. As he entered he immediately smelled paint and grease. Mechanics swarmed over an entire wing of starfighters. The seventy-two craft were arrayed in a space barely large enough for all of them. He found his pilots at a table on the far end of the hangar. As he neared, one of his pilots, a brown-furred Bothan, rose to greet him. Tharen remembered the pilot's name just as he fell into stride with him.

"R'krey Ther'gan?" Tharen asked.

"Congratulations." The Bothan grinned.

They sat, and a set of sabacc cards scattered across the table showed what his pilots had been doing. A Rodian tried to dicreetly pocket his winnings.

"Hello. As most of you know, or should know, I'm your commander." Tharen paused. "Since most of you don't know anything about my history, I'm going to tell you. I also ask that you do this too.

"As some of you may know-" he paused to look at Cristyle "-Contruum was an Imperial slave world in all but name. I was working as a communication officer for the Imps. The Moff ordered me to call the ISD in orbit and order a bombardment of the city where my parents were living. I hesitated, and the Moff scheduled me for termination. I took one last leave and never returned. I found a YT-2400 used and defected to the Rebels. I started as a transport pilot and found I had an affinity for combat. After that, High Command trained me. I outclassed almost all of my instructors, and the brass put me in an X-Wing squad back when Y-Wings were state-of-the-art. I made five kills in my first mission, and six the next one. My squad started drawing straws to see who wouldn't get any kills by flying my wing.

R'krey stood. "Not your turn, Furball," Tharen said.

"After four years in the service, High Command placed me in a B-Wing squad named Nova as the XO. A month ago, I got this command. On missions I'll be Leader or One." Tharen finished. Voc Sem, a Rodian, said "Ok, Furball, you can go now."

R'krey stood up. "Hey. I'm R'krey Ther'gan." 

A human male corrected him. "Furball."

R'krey sighed. "Is it always like this?" He continued before Tharen could make a comment. "Well, I was an only child. My parents basically pampered me until one day. Mom told me Dad wasn't coming back." He covered a sniffle with a cough. "He was one of the spies who managed to get the original Death Star plans to Princess Leia. After I was old enough, I decided to take after Asyr Sei'lar and join the service." Tharen heard a stifled cry from the hall. _Gavin Darklighter, _he thought. _I remember him from the Zsinj campaign. Doubtless the Rogues will be somewhere in this thing._ Tharen came back to reality just as 'Furball' sat. He pointed to a very alien looking being. At about 2.3 meters, he would have a hard time fitting into any cockpit. A long, flat face was punctuated by a small nose and a lipless mouth that seemed to be perpetually grinning. Short down covered the rest of his exposed body. His limbs were arranged in a vaguely human fashion, except his hands seemed small in comparison to his muscular arms. He stood. In a low, guttural voice he began. "I am a Durronian. Most of you have never heard of us, but we are a proud species." During this sentence, his voice climbed to that of a normal human. "We have a very complex vocal apparatus that allows us to mimic almost any sound we hear. We will usually speak in this voice, in case any of you are wondering." Tharen looked on in amazement as the alien made a perfect imitation of a blaster. Several of his pilots crouched and drew their own weapons.


End file.
